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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381814">Darkest of Shadows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deerlight/pseuds/Deerlight'>Deerlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warriors - Erin Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Scattered Clans AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:41:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deerlight/pseuds/Deerlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Ashenpaw finds herself separated from her friends, family and clan. Can she find her way home? Or will the cats with stars in their fur distract her with tales of ancient times? </p><p>(Au set years in the future after the quest cats failed in the New Prophecy arc)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Not telling</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Clan Allegiances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>Shadowclan</h2>
<p><b>Leader:</b> Swallowstar: thin brown tabby and white tom with a long tail. Yellow eyes<br/>
<b>Deputy:</b> Redwind: dark ginger she cat with white belly and paws, golden eyes<br/>
<b>Medicine Cat:</b> Nettlestalk: ragged black tom with a balding tail</p>
<p><b>Warriors:</b><br/>
Mistwatcher: silver she-cat, brown eyes<br/>
Honeybird: golden brown tom, green eyes<br/>
Otterswirl: black she cat, golden eyes<br/>
Snowbrair: white she cat, yellow eyes<br/>
Sootsting: gray tom with amber eyes<br/>
Acornpuddle: long furred brown tom, blue eyes<br/>
Roseflank: cream and ginger she cat, copper eyes</p>
<p><b>Apprentices:</b><br/>
none</p>
<p><b>Queens and Kits:</b><br/>
Rustberry: rusty ginger tom with white paws and green eyes. Father to Redwind’s kit.<br/>
Copperkit: ginger tabby tom with golden eyes<br/>
Bloomcreek: black and white she cat, yellow eyes. Mother to Sootsting’s kits.<br/>
Charcoalkit: dark gray tom with white paws and tail tip<br/>
Ashenkit: light gray she cat with white paws and belly	</p>
<p><b>Elders:</b><br/>
Mottlespots: mottled blind silver tom<br/>
Dustwhiskers: dusty brown tom with a missing front leg</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The small earthen den was dimly lit by a small beam of murky, fading sunlight. The sound of rain intermingled with clashes of thunder and the bright flashes of lightening that  filled the air. A slender black and white she-cat was snoring softly in the back of the den, her muzzle buried under her paw. Nestled into her belly was two sleeping kits, about a moon old. A dark gray tom with tiny white paws and tail tip. Curled up at his side was his sister, a pale gray shadow. She was on her back, her white stomach and paws in clear view. In another nest nearby, a dark, rusty ginger tom laid. His soft green eyes watching the storm outside as he carefully groomed the claws on his front left paw. Sprawled asleep across his back was an older kit, about 4 moons old. His brighter tabby ginger fur a bright contrast to his father’s darker pelt. He suddenly snorted in his sleep, his paws churning against the larger toms back as he curled his lips back in a soundless hiss. The older tom paused in his grooming and looked back at his son, eyes softening with amusement and love at his antics. </p>
<p>The sound of paws slapping through mud and water filled the den. It grew louder as it drew nearer and the older tom looked up in concern as four cats entered the den. Two of them were young, barely out of kithood themselves. One was a short, stout tom who’s long thick brown fur was completely sodden, his blue eyes screwed up in disgust. His sister was as slender and tall as he was stout and short, her short ginger and white fur spiky with mud, her bright copper eyes gleaming with mischief. Behind them with a cross expression was an older dusty brown tom, his front left leg ending at the elbow in a scarred stump. His ragged tail was draped over the shoulders of the fourth member of the group, a mottled silver tom with a thinning pelt. Horrific scars crossed his eyes and cheeks, leaving him blind. His tail twitched nervously as scarred ears flicked around at every noise. </p>
<p>“Hello,” the tom mewed softly. “What brings the elders here with an warrior escort?”</p>
<p>“Hey, Rustberry!” the tall she-cat replied loudly, bouncing up and down on her paws. The sleeping she-cat jerked awake, looking around owlishly at their visitors. </p>
<p>“Mouseguts Roseflank! Do you have to be so loud all the time,” hissed her brother in annoyance, as he glared at the puddle forming under his paws. </p>
<p>Roseflank chuckled into the crook of her paw, eyes dancing, “Come on, Acornpuddle! We just had a grand adventure! How can we not be loud after that?”</p>
<p>The older kit on Rustberry’s back eye’s flickered open and he raised his head in an enormous yawn. Rustberry gave a look back at his now awake offspring and gave the excitable young warrior a glare.</p>
<p>“Adventur’ she says, Mottlespots, adventur’! Like the terror w’ just wen’ through was fun!” the one legged tom snarled angrily. </p>
<p>The silver tom gave a small smile, “Well, um, it woke me up and made me nervous… sounds like an adventure to me, Dustwhiskers.”</p>
<p>“What’s going on?” asked the sleepily queen with a yawn. Her yellow eyes glowing in the gloom. As she spoke, her kits woke. The tom smacking his lips, the she-cat rolling over onto her belly with a squeak. </p>
<p>Acornpuddle sighed, “I’m really sorry about this, Bloomcreek, Rustberry, but the elders den just got washed out by the storm and the nursery was the closest.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Rustberry mewed, his annoyance fading with understanding. He turned back to the kit on his back, who was staring around with wide golden eyes. “Copperkit, I need you to get off, son. Go sit with Bloomcreek while I help get them settled.”</p>
<p>The young tom nodded and slipped of to go to sit next to the two younger kits, who were now sitting up, their dull kit-blue eyes excited. Dustwhiskers watched him as the elder began to groom the water out of his fur. </p>
<p>“He still not talkin’?” he asked Rustberry. </p>
<p>Rustberry padded over to a pile of moss on the other side of the den. The ginger tom didn’t reply, pretending that the elder hadn’t spoken. He flicked his tail at Acornpuddle and Roseflank.</p>
<p>“You two might as well stay, unless you want to go back into the storm as well?”</p>
<p>Acornpuddle snorted, rolling his eyes at the older tom, “We’re warriors, you pa-” </p>
<p>A furry white and ginger tail was shoved into his mouth, cutting him off. Roseflank gave Rustberry a beaming smile.</p>
<p>“That would be fantastic, Rustberry! If Acornpuddle gets anymore wet, he’ll whining about it for a moon! You’d think a cat named -puddle would like water more,” she gave a big belly laugh, smacking the ground with a muddy paw.</p>
<p>“Bloomcreek?” asked the dark gray tom to his mother.</p>
<p>“Yes, Charcoalkit?”</p>
<p>“I don’t get the joke,” he squeaked.</p>
<p>Everyone couldn’t help but laugh at that, including Roseflank. The tension was broken and the two warriors went over to help the nursery tom. It wasn’t long before the extra moss was set up into nests, the muddy and wet pelts were groomed and everyone but the kits were settled in as the light darkened as night arrived. The kits were worked up with the new arrivals, the two younger kits asking question after question, pestering the warriors and elders with questions.</p>
<p>Bloomcreek gave them an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, they haven’t really met anyone in the clan besides Rustberry and Copperkit.”</p>
<p>Mottlespots ears flicked in her direction with a frown.</p>
<p>“My grandson, Sootsting, has been in to see his kits, correct?” he asked.</p>
<p>Bloomcreek didn’t say anything, her ears twisting back in embarrassment. </p>
<p>“Who’s Sootsting?”the little she-cat asked.</p>
<p>Rustberry snorted in disgust, tail tip flicking. The queen glared at him. Roseflank glanced around as awkward silence filled the den. She beamed at Dustwhiskers.</p>
<p>“Hey Dusty!”</p>
<p>The elder gave her an annoyed glare.</p>
<p>“I think Ashenkit and the others might calm down if you tell them a story!” she all but yelled. </p>
<p>Ashenkit squeaked in excitement and ran over to the elders on wobbly paws. Her brother and Copperkit followed slower.</p>
<p>“You think they have a new story we haven’t heard yet, Copperkit?” Charcoalkit asked in excitement.</p>
<p>The other kit nodded at his friend, eyes glittering. </p>
<p>“It’s not a bad idea, Dustwhiskers,” said Mottlespots. “I can start if you want. I have a good story.”</p>
<p>“About what?” Charcoalkit asked.</p>
<p>The toms scarred face turned towards the kits, “About our lost home.”</p>
<p>Acornpuddle paused in his grooming, ”We don’t have a home.” </p>
<p>The kits gave each other puzzled looks. Dustwhiskers was the one to explain.</p>
<p>“Ya kit’s are too youn’ to know this bu’ all this” he gestured at everything with his tail. “Is jus’ a temporary camp. Every so often our leader will have us move, for som’ reason or anothe’.”</p>
<p>“Indeed,” said Mottlespots. “Now an days, Shadowclan are nomads. But once in the distant past we had our own territory, safe and protected. More rich in prey than anything we’ve ever seen.”</p>
<p>“Wait a minute,” Acornpuddle interrupted.  “Is this the story Father ordered you not to tell?”</p>
<p>For the first time the tom looked interested, blue eyes curious.</p>
<p>Dustwhiskers snorted, “The day tha’ son of mine makes m’ not tell our history, is the day I die.”</p>
<p>He seemed to forget that he wasn’t the one that started to tell the story or that he hadn’t even wanted to in the first place. </p>
<p>“Now if I can continue?” asked the blind tom.</p>
<p>Acornpuddle muttered an apology and the elder restarted his tale. It wasn’t only the three kits who listened to it with wide eyes and batted breath, but the two young warriors and the nursery queen and tom. Both of the cats had been born outside of the clan and joined later in life. This was a new tale for all.</p>
<p>“Generations ago, Shadowclan lived on a large swath of territory they called their own. It was a pine forest and a marsh, that even the brightest of days, was filled with darkness. Perfect for our ancestors, who at the time was best known for their night hunting. Half their warriors took on the name Night Warriors and spent their days sleeping and their nights hunting and patrolling their home. During the times that the sun set or rose the whole clan would gather to share tongues and eat a meal. Their life was not one of ease but was filled with the work of feeding their clan and protecting their borders from their neighbors. But it was a fulfilling life, filled with kin and purpose.”</p>
<p>This time it was Bloomcreek to interrupt, “Neighbors?”</p>
<p>Mottlespots nodded, “Indeed. For Shadowclan was not the only clan. They shared their borders with three others. Sadly time and memory has failed them as their names are unknown to me. If anyone knows them they are not part of our clan. They struggled with these nameless clans, for food and territory but despite not being of Shadowclan, they were still clan cats. Every full moon all four clans would meet under it’s light to share news and gossip. If there was ever an outside threat from another group of cats or such, all four clans would stand together as allies. For there was something else they had in common. Their ancestors.”</p>
<p>The old tom paused to collect his thoughts. The silence in the nursery was heavy.</p>
<p>“Again time and memory fails this part of the tale, as the ancestors name is forgotten as well. Along with many other things, like the code that they gave to the clans to live by. Fragments of the code remains, I believe, and we use these today but the full code is long gone. The other thing that legend says we lost was the connection to our ancestors. Certain cats, mainly medicine cats, were able to communicate with them and they blessed the leaders of the clans with nine lives to lead their clans with. Something that is mostly certainly not true today… If it ever was true and not just some kit’s tale.”</p>
<p>“Nine lives?” asked Roseflank. For a rare moment, she wasn’t talking loudly, her mew almost quiet. “If that’s true, why isn’t a thing now?”</p>
<p>“For the same reason we lost our home. This happened seasons upon seasons ago, when Blackstar lead our clan. If the tales are true, he is the last leader of our old home and the last leader to have nine lives. Blackstar became our leader right after a dark time in the forest. A time when all the clans banded together to drive off a group of cats that had come from the twoleg place to steal what was theirs. They thought the peace would last. And it did until the twolegs came. They came with their monsters and tore down the trees. Drove away the mice, squirrels and birds. Poisoned the rabbits and hares. Dried up the river. And one fateful day, pounced on the camp that Shadowclan had lived in for countless seasons. Many cats died that day and what was left of Shadowclan fled the forest. And nothing was ever the same. We became travelers at first because of Blackstar’s desire to find the other clans. All of who had also fled from the twolegs. But it was never meant to be. Blackstar died, never finding what he so yearned for.”</p>
<p>The silence that followed was interrupted by Charcoalkit, “That’s it? Well that was a dumb story! Bloomcreek’s stories always end with Shadowclan being awesome!”</p>
<p>Without waiting for a reply from the now annoyed elder, he tackled Copperkit with a grand war cry. The two rolled across the den, right into Roseflank, who howled with laughter and joined them in a wrestling match. Acornpuddle rolled his eyes and started mewing something quietly to Dustwhiskers. Bloomcreek padded over to where Rustberry sat and leaned over to ask him something. Mottlespots seemed to sense that the little she-cat, Ashenkit, hadn’t moved. She was completely still, a thoughtful look on her face as she stared at the wall of the den with unfocused eyes. The elder ran his tail along her back to get her attention, his whiskers feeling it when she turned to face him.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong, young one?” he asked. Everyone paused when they saw the serious look that Ashenkit gave him, even Charcoalkit and Copperkit from their perches on top of Roseflank. </p>
<p>“If Blackstar was the last leader from our old home and he wanted us to rejoin the other clans does that mean we’re looking for them?” she asked.</p>
<p>The older cats shared amused looks. Mottlespots shifted uncomfortably and sighed. </p>
<p>“No, little one. We travel because that’s just what we’ve always done. It’s just a tale, there are no other clans, just us.”</p>
<p>“But you don’t know that for sure, right?”</p>
<p>The was a pause. </p>
<p>“No, I can’t say I do.”</p>
<p>The little she-cat nodded and declared, “Then I want to find them!”</p>
<p>Mottlespots flicked his tail in surprise but it was Acornpuddle who replied.</p>
<p>“But why? Even if it’s true, why would we need other clans? We’re Shadowclan, we’re more than fine by ourselves.”</p>
<p>He seemed honestly baffled at the very idea of it. Ashenkit gave him an unflinching look back. Her paw started to play with a piece of moss as she gathered her thoughts.</p>
<p>“Well, if it’s true that our ancestors are just waiting for us that means Blackstar is as well.”</p>
<p>“Waiting for what?” the tom asked.</p>
<p>“For us to finish his quest, of course!” </p>
<p>She seemed excited, eyes shining. Acornpuddle raised an eyebrow as he tried not laugh. Bloomcreek got to her paws and went over to her daughter and lead her back to her nest.</p>
<p>“Okay, that’s enough now. You too Charcoalkit. It’s late, it’s time for bed.”</p>
<p>The cats all settled down and soon the sleepy scene from before returned. Only this time, one little she-cat watched the storm outside. As her brother, mother and den mates shifted in their sleep, snoring and muttering in their sleep. Something seemed to have been lit inside Ashenkit with that story. A desire to finish the ancient leader’s quest. To find the other clans. What were they named? Stormclan? Denclan? Mossclan? Ah… Catclan? What were they like? Were they nomads like them, traveling from place to place as the seasons passed? Or did they find new homes to live since the time of the old forest? And their ancestors? Were they real? Were they watching over them even now, hoping, praying, for the connection to be restored so they could talk to the living once again? Was Blackstar up there right now still mourning the destruction of their old home and the lost of… well everything? That seemed just sad to Ashenkit. An aching, stomach hurting, can’t move sort of sad. But bigger. If there was even chance to ease that sadness, shouldn’t they try? Shouldn’t she?</p>
<p>Far above the little den, above even the storm laden clouds, among the stars, ancient spirits stirred.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Roseflank is a mood.</p>
<p>AU idea I've been tinkering with. I really like the prologue so thought I'd share.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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